


Relax

by WildnessBecomesYou



Category: Ratched (TV)
Genre: F/F, Massages, Smut, booty nibbles, mildred is a nurse after all, much smut, tired gwen needs some being taken care of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:16:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27140296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildnessBecomesYou/pseuds/WildnessBecomesYou
Summary: Mildred knows what it feels like to be taken care of. She takes the opportunity to show Gwendolyn the same.
Relationships: Gwendolyn Briggs/Mildred Ratched
Comments: 35
Kudos: 193





	Relax

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Michaera Rose](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Michaera+Rose).



> Michaera Rose requested some first-time topping and, well, I feel like Mildred did pretty okay here! 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy ;) 
> 
> ALSO PSA!!! They've released a director's cut edition of Episode 1 on Netflix. Nine extra minutes of content. You have to go to the "extras" section, where they usually hide the trailers and such. NINE EXTRA MINUTES OF CONTENT!!!

It’s been a long day. 

Gwendolyn has been at the Mayor’s office for most of it, helping the man run through the speeches she’d written for him. He isn’t a stupid man. He’s not as confident as Governor Willburn, but he is genuine— something Willburn often missed. 

He’s authentic, and Gwendolyn likes that. He just also has a really poor memory. He needs more notes than she’s ever really seen in a politician thus far, and more practice. He really needs a permanent Press Secretary. 

Not that Gwendolyn would ever say as much to Mildred. She’d think Gwendolyn was suggesting she do the job, and she’d get upset over it, and then Gwendolyn would need to remind her that she has already agreed to go down to Mexico. 

Even so, Gwendolyn feels responsible for this man’s success. Taylor has been elected once, and she can get him elected again. It just takes long hours and exhaustive work at the moment. 

“Patty,” she calls as she heads to the lounge, “we’re done for today.” She approached the desk and Patty looks up, smiling. “You might want to give his wife a heads-up, his brain is a bit mush after all we’ve done. I’ve got a call to make and then I’ll head home.”

Patty nods. “I’ll bring him his cigarettes in a bit. Thanks, Mrs Briggs.” 

“Of course.” With that, she moves towards the lounge, rests her suitcase on the counter as she picks up the phone and dials home. 

“Mildred Ratched speaking.”

She sounds fairly bright, like she’s well rested, like she hasn’t had something tugging around the insides of her brain. It makes Gwendolyn smile. 

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“Oh!” Her voice brightens, and Gwendolyn is nearly trembling with it. She’s glad for this little ritual, their phone calls before she comes home, but God, she just wants to be wrapped in Mildred's arms already. “Hi, Gwendolyn, are you coming home?”

“Yes, just after I hang up. Anything we need from the store?” 

There’s silence on the other end for a moment, and it makes Gwendolyn nervous. But Mildred speaks, and there’s concern in her tone. “You sound exhausted, just come home, I can make us something.” 

“I don’t— I can stop, darling, really, I’m fine.” But she is exhausted, and she really does just want to be at home, remember how it feels to breathe without needing to tell someone else how to breathe first. 

“Come home,” Mildred says, “come straight home to me.”

And who is Gwendolyn to tell her no?

When she arrives home, it takes everything in her not to just stumble in through the threshold. But she places her briefcase neatly aside— right where Mildred will move it, if she doesn’t put it there in the first place— and pulls off her shoes before sighing and turning around.

Mildred is right there, so close it makes Gwendolyn jump. “Jesus, Mildred,” she laughs, and Mildred is smiling back at her.

“Sorry,” Mildred murmurs, but she moves in, wraps her arms around Gwendolyn’s shoulders and presses a slow, sweet kiss to Gwendolyn’s lips. Then she squishes herself closer, tucks her chin over Gwendolyn’s shoulder. “How was Mayor Taylor’s office?” 

Gwendolyn lifts one hand from Mildred’s back to brush it over her own face. “He’s— well, he’s not hopeless, but how he’s survived this long with only Patty I have no idea.” Mildred hums softly against her, shifting on her feet and leaning more to Gwendolyn’s right. Gwendolyn brings that arm further around her waist. “He requires so much attention.” 

Mildred giggles. “Does that tire you out?” She pulls back, and Gwendolyn turns her head to look at her, taking in the sly little smile that brings out the dimples in her cheeks. 

“Men,” Gwendolyn sighs, “are exhausting.” Mildred giggles— what a blessed sound, the way Gwendolyn thinks the sparkles on top of ocean waves should sound— and Gwendolyn pats her bum affectionately. “Now, what are we cooking?”

“ _We_ are not,” Mildred says, slipping her hand into Gwendolyn’s and stepping back from her to tug her forward. “ _I_ have made some Salisbury steak and some green beans.” 

Gwendolyn’s heart softens. She thinks her whole body may be made of putty, but she’s still following Mildred and her smile and her hands and the sparkle in her eyes. “You didn’t have to, sweetheart.” 

Mildred shrugs as they pass through the doorway to the dining room. The table is already set. “I had everything we needed. I’d already started the steak when you called.” 

Gwendolyn shakes her head, tugs Mildred to her where she can place a kiss on her forehead. “You’re too good to me.”

Mildred hums happily. “No one could be _that_.” 

She does sit, and Mildred watches her take those first few bites before she starts to eat. It’s clear to Mildred that, as exhausted as she is, she’s also hungry. She wonders if Gwendolyn had even eaten lunch. 

Mildred bites her lip. She worries about all this— she worries that Gwendolyn is tiring herself out when she should save her strength, and while she knows this work cycle with the Mayor is almost over, she wishes Gwendolyn would rest more. 

“Are you alright?” Gwendolyn asks, reaching for her hand. Mildred takes it, lets her lip loose, breathes out as she squeezes. 

“I just worry about you, that’s all.” 

Gwendolyn smiles fondly at her and lifts their hands to her lips. “I’ll be fine after a good night’s rest, darling.” 

Mildred nods. 

When they’re finished with dinner, they move around the kitchen, a choreographed dance that needs no music by now. It’s comforting, to Mildred. The sight of Gwendolyn moving around with assuredness, her body relaxing slowly, gives Mildred peace. 

That doesn’t mean she doesn’t pin Gwendolyn to one spot and make her dry, not wash, the dishes. 

After the dishes are done, she herds Gwendolyn upstairs, tells her to shower and relax while she finishes tidying the kitchen. She tidies both the kitchen and the dining room, almost moves to the living room before she hears the water stop running. But she knows that she’ll have less than five minutes once the water is done. 

Mildred moves upstairs quickly, fluffing up the pillows on the bed, making sure there’s a bit of a natural dip in the middle of the bed. When the door to the bathroom opens, she looks over her shoulder, loses her breath for a moment. 

Gwendolyn has emerged from the bathroom, skin slightly pink from the heat of the shower, wrapped in her fluffy white robe. She’s scrunching at the wet curls in her hair with a towel, sighing in relief as steam follows her out into the slightly colder room. She spots Mildred and her eyes light up. 

Mildred’s breath slams back into her chest, warm and solid and seeping into all the places in her body she’d thought were unreachable. 

“Come here,” she breathes, and she’d meant for it to be a command, but it comes out as a plea. But Gwendolyn grins, hangs her towel off the side of the tall wicker basket she keeps their dirty clothes in, and joins Mildred on the bed. 

Mildred can’t help kissing her for a moment, a hand around the back of her neck. Gwendolyn hums against her and relaxes, sinking towards her. But Mildred pulls away, presses a kiss to her forehead, and says, “Take that off,” while tugging at the robe. 

Gwendolyn raises an eyebrow at her. Mildred rolls her eyes. “Take your robe off and lay down on your stomach, please.” 

Gwendolyn follows orders, at least, but she does voice her curiosity with a “What exactly is going on here?” 

Mildred scoots herself off the bed, moves over towards the vanity. The bottle of Toushay’s hand lotion isn’t the perfect solution, but she wants Gwendolyn to be able to roll over and go to sleep when she’s finished, and if she uses baby lotion for this the sheets will be an awful mess. So she grabs the little pear-shaped bottle and returns to the bed.

She doesn’t miss Gwendolyn watching her. 

Gwendolyn’s arms are folded together, creating a little pillow for her to rest her temple on. She’s confused, but there’s amusement in her eyes, and that sense of weariness that Mildred just wants to take away. Mildred places the little bottle on the nightstand on Gwendolyn’s side, reaches for a pillow just above Gwendolyn’s arms. 

Gwendolyn reaches for the bottle. “Ah-ah!” Mildred scolds, slapping her hand away gently. “Lift your head, please.” 

Gwendolyn’s eyebrows furrow, but she lets Mildred place the pillow under her head, readjusts herself on the bed. She watches Mildred slide her skirt down and fold it; then she watches as Mildred undoes her blouse, and folds that too, and sets the outermost layers on a chair by the window. She hums appreciatively as Mildred approaches. 

It earns her a gently scolding glare. “This is not a striptease,” Mildred warns. 

“Oh, it’s not?”

Mildred’s fingers poke gently at the side of her head, and she lets it rock back and forth, closes her eyes against the touch. 

Mildred retrieves the bottle of lotion and climbs up onto the bed, swings a leg over Gwendolyn’s waist so that she’s straddling her. She leans down and presses a kiss to the spot where her neck meets her back— Gwendolyn arches up into it and Mildred chuckles, pushing down gently with her hands. “Relax, Gwendolyn.”

“I’m plenty relaxed.”

It’s almost petulant, and it makes Mildred chuckle. “No, you’re not. Let me do this, let me take care of you.” 

Gwendolyn sighs, her back sinking towards the bed, taking Mildred with her. Mildred pops open the little bottle of lotion, pours out a quarter-sized dollop of it in her palm. The lid gets replaced and she places the bottle back on the nightstand— Gwendolyn’s fingers reach out and caress her arm, still wanting to touch despite the presence of Mildred’s thighs at her ribs. Mildred pulls her arm back slowly, letting Gwendolyn’s fingers linger on her skin. 

She warms the lotion between her hands, listening to Gwendolyn’s quiet breathing, nerves building in her stomach. She wonders if she’ll be able to do this properly— she knows all the theory behind it, but can she do it herself? 

Mildred braces herself, leans down and places each palm on either side of Gwendolyn’s spine. When she presses down, scoops her hands up towards Gwendolyn’s shoulders, spreading her fingers as she goes, she doesn’t miss the muffled moan Gwendolyn lets out. She drags her fingers straight down with a grin, feeling the muscles move under her. She repeats the upward sweep, but this time goes further— she dips her fingers into the spots where Gwendolyn’s shoulders meet her neck, presses her thumb into the higher points in Gwendolyn’s shoulders. 

Gwendolyn’s hips lift off the bed, and it takes Mildred a second to catch herself, lean back against it. “Gwendolyn.”

Gwendolyn groans a response, but pushes her hips back down. 

“Is that so?” Mildred chuckles, still rubbing at the knots in Gwendolyn’s shoulders. 

“Feels good,” Gwendolyn responds, mumbling into the pillow. Her voice has a rasp to it, now, and Mildred bites her lip. 

She leans down, presses a kiss as close to Gwendolyn’s temple as she can, breathes, “Let me take care of you.” 

Gwendolyn’s breath hitches. But her body relaxes under Mildred’s. 

Mildred sweeps her hands up and down, spreading the lotion over Gwendolyn’s skin as she tends to each area of Gwendolyn’s back. She finds more knots in her lower back, tuts lowly at the poor posture she knows causes them. She slides herself down to Gwendolyn’s thighs to dig her thumbs into the spots between Gwendolyn’s hips. 

It doesn’t escape her that she has a really rather glorious sight in front of her. Combine the expanse of skin over Gwendolyn’s shoulders and back— the muscles that wait under the surface, the softness of the skin, the way her body shifts when she breathes, it’s all art, poetry in motion, an ocean of gratitude to whatever maker Made her— and the presence of Gwendolyn’s rump right in front of her, well. 

Who can blame her for being a bit cheeky? It’s a nice backside. 

She leans down, stretching her hips backwards, and nips at Gwendolyn’s right ass cheek. Gwendolyn yelps in response and she giggles, quickly pressing a kiss to the same spot before sitting up and continuing her work at Gwendolyn’s hips. 

“You are incorrigible,” Gwendolyn mutters, but Mildred can tell she’s smiling. Mildred hums happily in response. 

Eventually, the lotion seeps all the way into Gwendolyn’s skin, and Mildred’s fingers start to leave little red trails. She places little kisses on the marks before tugging at Gwendolyn’s shoulder to get her to turn over. 

Gwendolyn’s face is a perfect picture of bliss, smiling up at Mildred with eyes that shine with adoration. Mildred’s breath catches. She bites her lip and Gwendolyn reaches up to smooth her thumb over the same spot. 

And she looks so relaxed, but Mildred decides she’s not done. 

“That was lovely,” Gwendolyn murmurs. “Thank you, darling.” 

Mildred cradles Gwendolyn’s face in her hands, sweeps her thumbs across Gwendolyn’s cheeks. “Of course.” She kisses her, a simple press of lips to lips. “You take care of me so well,” she says, interrupts herself with another kiss, and Gwendolyn’s lips part slightly. “I just want to do the same for you.”

“You do,” Gwendolyn manages to say before Mildred is kissing her again, and she tastes like home, like all the things Mildred has ever wanted suddenly within her grasp. 

And it heats up— Gwendolyn’s legs prop up to support Mildred, and her hands rest on Mildred’s hips, and Mildred wants all of her. 

So she pulls away, ducks to the right and latches on to the spot where Gwendolyn’s neck meets her jaw. Gwendolyn gasps a little, shifting under Mildred, reaching her hands lower, closer to Mildred’s core. 

Mildred nips lower on Gwendolyn’s neck. “Be still,” she half-growls, and Gwendolyn’s breath hitches as she freezes. 

“Sweet—“

“I’m taking care of you tonight,” Mildred interrupts. But she softens, murmurs, “you can hold on to me, no more.” 

This is entirely new to Mildred. It’s always been Gwendolyn doing this, Gwendolyn making the rules, Gwendolyn touching and holding hands down, Gwendolyn hovering over her. But she wants to try— she wants to give Gwendolyn the same chance to let go of the day, let someone else make the decisions for her. Gwendolyn deserves a little relaxation. 

So she sucks at the spot that always makes Gwendolyn squirm, and she does. She stays with that spot perhaps a moment too long, noticing the purplish bruise starting to bloom. Gwendolyn will probably huff about it in the morning, but now— 

Right now, she’s panting, and good god, the sun must reside just below her skin, shine through her blood, because she’s almost too much to look at. 

Not too much to taste, or feel, though, and Mildred runs her fingers down Gwendolyn’s arms as she nips gently at the crook of Gwendolyn’s neck. She slides her fingers back up, then down over her shoulders, ghosting over Gwendolyn’s breasts. Her mouth shifts naturally to Gwendolyn’s collarbone as her back arches. Mildred grins into her skin. 

She brings her hands up to cup Gwendolyn’s breasts and moves up to kiss Gwendolyn properly. Gwendolyn groans, pushes up into her, opens herself up to Mildred. She feels the warmth of that wash over her— is this how Gwendolyn feels when she’s calling the shots? The trust in her is intoxicating. 

“Good,” Mildred says against her lips, and Gwendolyn shudders. 

“Mildred,” she breathes, and Mildred smiles, brushing her thumbs over Gwendolyn’s nipples. “Oh— I—“ 

She cuts herself off with a whimper as Mildred lets her lips join her hands. Another whimper and Mildred looks up to see her head pushed back against the pillows, hands fisted in the sheets. “Gwen,” she murmurs, and the name seems to ripple through Gwendolyn. “I think you understand now. You can touch.” 

Immediately, Gwendolyn’s fingers are in her hair, a light pressure against her scalp as she holds Mildred close. Mildred’s eyes close happily as she licks and nips and sucks at little spots over Gwendolyn’s chest. 

She loves Gwendolyn’s fingers in her hair, tugging, holding, pressing— the feeling of being surrounded, protected, cradled, but also demanded. It makes her feel wanted and safe at the same time. It’s what she imagines being high must be like. 

Eventually she continues her path downwards, and Gwendolyn grips for a moment before flexing her fingers open. She can hear Gwendolyn’s pants quicken as she draws closer to her center, but she’s not ready yet. 

So she squeezes at Gwendolyn’s thighs, then places a kiss to the inside of Gwendolyn’s left knee. 

“Baby,” Gwendolyn begs.

“Patience,” Mildred responds. Gwendolyn whines and Mildred swats lightly at her right thigh. She doesn’t miss the hiccuped breath Gwendolyn lets out. 

She teases at Gwendolyn’s thigh until she’s brushing up against where thigh meets hip. Then she does the same to the right thigh, biting down on the flesh when Gwendolyn tries to goad her on again. She’s rewarded with a buck of the hips and a gasp, and she looks up to Gwendolyn’s chest heaving, and she grins. 

She pushes herself up, crawls up Gwendolyn’s body, kisses her deeply. Gwendolyn’s hands come up to touch— one buries itself in her hair, the other gripping at the center of her back. A leg sneaks up to try and wrap itself around Mildred’s waist. 

Mildred escapes it by grinding her own hips down, and the slightest bit of friction there causes Gwendolyn’s breath to stutter deliciously. “Mildred, baby, please,” Gwendolyn breathes between kisses. 

And Mildred relents, lifts herself up. “Yes, my sweet Gwen?” She knows her voice is husky, knows that does something to Gwendolyn. 

Gwendolyn shivers. “Please touch me.”

Mildred grins, presses another kiss to Gwendolyn’s lips before sliding down her body. When she’s comfortable between her thighs, she braces one hand on Gwendolyn’s lower abdomen and reaches for her hand with the other. Gwendolyn scrambles to interlace their fingers, anticipation shaking her. 

Mildred licks a stroke up Gwendolyn’s center. Gwendolyn gasps, and her hips buck, but Mildred is able to hold her hips down. 

“Fuck—“

“Language,” Mildred rumbles, and it’s entirely a joke. But the vibrations roll through Gwendolyn and she shudders, groaning weakly. 

She nuzzles back against Gwendolyn’s center, lapping up the taste of her, relishing in the shudders that roll through Gwendolyn. She presses her tongue flat against Gwendolyn’s clit and the woman cries out, back arching and fingers gripping at Mildred’s. Her free hand finds Mildred’s hair and she tugs; Mildred’s eyes close as a little shiver runs through her at the sensation. 

Mildred laps up the wetness that spills from Gwendolyn, hums at the taste, swirls her tongue around Gwendolyn’s clit. Gwendolyn grinds down against her, seeking that friction, and Mildred chuckles as Gwendolyn lets out a long moan. It stutters over her chuckle, her hips twitching. 

Mildred pulls back for a moment, shifting her hand from Gwendolyn’s abdomen to scoop up one of her legs and hoist it over her shoulder. She doesn’t replace the hand. 

“Baby, please, I need—“ 

“Shh,” Mildred murmurs, sliding her fingers through Gwendolyn’s folds. Gwendolyn jerks against her, accidentally tugging harshly at Mildred’s hair. 

It feels good. 

“Mildred, ff—“

She can’t get the curse out, gets stuck on it, and Mildred grins. She slips a finger into Gwendolyn’s core, gently pushing in, pulling out, and Gwendolyn shudders violently. Her mouth opens in a wordless plea, and Mildred slips another finger in, tries what Gwendolyn always does on her— 

She curls her fingers back towards herself. Gwendolyn’s body follows her fingers, lifting off the bed as she heaves in a breath, both hands flexing open without her control. Mildred dives back in and Gwendolyn slams back against the bed, groaning out Mildred’s name. 

Her hand grips Mildred’s again, her fingers sliding from Mildred’s hair to brush against her shoulder, scrabbling for purchase. The leg that’s been thrown around her shoulder is digging into Mildred’s back, pulling her closer, and Mildred lets it. 

Mildred thrusts a few times, swirling her tongue around Gwendolyn’s clit again, and Gwendolyn’s hand finds the back of Mildred’s head. There are whimpers falling from her lips, and Mildred takes pity on her. 

She wraps her lips around Gwendolyn’s clit and sucks gently, curls her fingers and lets them go several times. A gasped breath in, then two, then three, and Gwendolyn is shaking. Her voice arcs up over something between a sigh and a scream. Her thighs shake against Mildred’s shoulders, hips jerking, and her whole body is tense and taut until she goes limp. 

Mildred slips her hand from Gwendolyn’s core, cleans the mess off her fingers, then uses her tongue to clean up after Gwendolyn. She presses a kiss to each inner thigh as Gwendolyn stares at the ceiling and heaves in breaths. 

Mildred crawls back over her, lifting Gwendolyn’s hands back to her hips, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. 

“Shit,” Gwendolyn rasps, and Mildred chuckles, petting down the side of Gwendolyn’s neck. “I think— I think I’m plenty relaxed now.”

Her eyes find Mildred’s, and there’s a shine to them that has nothing to do with arousal or exhaustion. It’s the same look Gwendolyn gives her when she first opens her eyes, or the moment she spots Mildred when she walks through the door after hours of being gone. Like she’s grateful to see her, like she’s the loveliest thing that Gwendolyn’s ever seen. 

“Good,” Mildred responds, because there’s not much else she can say. Gwendolyn pulls her in for a proper kiss, tugs her down to lay half on top of her. 

“You’re too good to me, darling,” Gwendolyn murmurs against her. 

Mildred shakes her head through the kiss. “I just love you.” 

Gwendolyn nips at her lip before she pulls back. Another kiss is placed to Mildred’s forehead, her arms slipping around Mildred’s shoulders to hold her close. “And I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment below <3 
> 
> I've got about four fics before I'm gonna concentrate solely on the long fic. Three of those are requests, so here's what I'll say-- get your requests in now! After I post the next one, any requests will be booted till after the long fic. :)


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